


Accidental Superheroes

by JuweWright, QueenVulca



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Harry Potter, Auror Hermione Granger, Canon Compliant Timeline, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-20
Updated: 2017-05-20
Packaged: 2018-11-02 23:19:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10954824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JuweWright/pseuds/JuweWright, https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenVulca/pseuds/QueenVulca
Summary: The Statute of Secrecy is being broken to expose the Wizarding World. The Aurors are befuddled as emails are working their way to unveil the secret community of the witches and wizards. Two of the best Aurors with Muggle background are assigned to tackle this case. Come join the race against time as our Aurors pair fight crime and fall in love all at the same time."How do we keep getting into these situations?" Harry mused."Eleven years of friendship and I still don't know,"   Hermione replied with a smile creeping onto her face.Winner for "Best Fluff" and "Most Creative use of Prompt" in the Hermione's Haven Roll-a-Partner Collaborative Writing Challenge. Runner up for "Overall Favorite Story", "Best Overall Collaboration" and "Best Plot Development"





	Accidental Superheroes

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [Roll_A_Partner](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Roll_A_Partner) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
>  
> 
> 15\. Prompt: They've gotten themselves into another bout of trouble. What is it this time and how do they get out of it?  
> "How do we keep getting into these situations?" -Harry  
> "Eleven years of friendship and I still don't know." -Hermione  
> Suggested Kinks: Banter, Comedy, Fluff, Humor, Pretty much anything not listed in squicks  
> Squicks: Infidelity, Ron bashing, Scat, Vomit, Watersports  
> Additional comments: Have fun with coming up with a situation for them. Is it being caught in an ambush? Out in search of a wayward Death Eater? A compromising position? If you go with the last, I don't want Ron flipping out. Any rating.
> 
>   **Love to our beta, Liz!**

* * *

“Everybody drop whatever you’re doing! We have a problem!”

Justin Finch-Fletchley stormed into the office. His attire - usually dapper and stylish - looked a little dishevelled.

Hermione had almost dropped her freshly brewed cup of coffee at his entry and looked up, brows raised.

“Merlin’s beard, Justin!” someone exclaimed in a bored tone. “What’s it this time? Has your owl escaped again? Has your favourite football team won the world cup? Or has your mum made another attempt at telling you to get married and have children already?”

Harry appeared from behind his desk. There was a huge wet spot on his trousers and he swore profusely whilst trying to rescue a pile of paper from the tea he had just spilt all over his workspace.

“For once,” he said in direction of Justin, “I am quite in accordance with Draco. This better be good or I will have you write this whole tedious report for me. I spent hours on this and now it’s papier-mâché thanks to one over-enthusiastic git!”

Justin didn’t seem to be too impressed by the promise of having to re-do Harry’s paperwork. He was still agitated.

“There’s a traitor!” he exclaimed. “Somebody’s trying to unmask the wizarding society.”

About ten minutes later, all available Aurors had gathered in the small conference room they used for briefings these days. Harry was still sulking because of the destroyed report and Draco made a point out of being incredibly late and very slowly munching away on a chocolate frog while reclining on his seat with a bored expression on his face. Hermione met Harry’s eyes and knew he was thinking the same thing as her. Although Draco was part of the “good guys” now and was an invaluable colleague who had been in charge of five very successful raids in the last year, he was still an insufferable arrogant nightmare.

“There have been e-mails sent out to pretty much everybody who owns a computer telling people to gather in certain places to ‘witness the danger in our midst that magic presents’. One watch-spot is right in front of the Leaky Cauldron. You know that there are hardly any wards around it. The only thing that has been in place there is a charm that makes people look the other way. But if people are told to actually watch the place, the enchantment is quite useless.”

Several hands were raised. Draco’s among them. The blond man didn’t wait for Justin to give him the word though but just blurted out:

“What Muggle-nonsense is an e-mail? And why should we be bothered by people receiving them?”

“It’s like mail,” Hermione explained calmly. “Just very much quicker and more efficient. By sending out an email, you can contact people all over the world in less than seconds. It’s quicker than most of the magical means of communication.”

Justin nodded approvingly and thankfully.

  
“Hermione’s right. E-mails have become a problem, I believe. As technology advances, more and more Muggles are using computers on an everyday basis. And they also tend to read and send e-mails quite often.”

He waved his wand at the huge board behind him and some bullet points appeared while he kept talking.

“We know that about 600 Million people have access to the internet with the number getting bigger each day. That’s almost 10% of the world’s population. If we look at Britain only, the number is much greater. More than 50% of our Muggle residents use the internet. And almost all of them will have an e-mail address. So, our friend just contacted every second Muggle and told them about some of our best-kept secrets.”

From somewhere along their row of seats, Hermione heard someone state with a matter-of-fact tone: “What a disaster.”

Even Draco seemed to grasp the scale of the problem now.

“Do we have any clue who he is?”  


“We don’t,” Justin said. “But I have established a connection to the Met Police force and I guess we might be able to call on their help.”

“Is that the obliviation-exception he handed in after the last case?” Harry murmured, his mouth almost touching Hermione’s earlobe.

She nodded.

“Guess his mum won’t have to bug him about getting married anymore then,” Harry grinned.

“That failing,” Justin carried on, “I have a fall-back option.”

Hermione chuckled.

“His cousin is very into hacking other people’s computers,” she whispered.

It took the Aurors a while to discuss the particulars and it was finally decided that Hermione and Harry would be assigned the case. As Justin had two other cases running already and was all too happy to leave it in their hands, they were the only two Muggle-borns working for the Auror office and they’d be much less conspicuous navigating the streets of Muggle London than any of the purebloods would.

Justin would let them know particulars as soon as he had managed to get the information he needed either from his possibly-girlfriend at the Met, or from his familial connection in the hacker business. As it was vital they go after the person behind this issue as soon as possible, it was decided they should both wait for orders at the Ministry. Hermione sighed.

“I will need to get word to someone to look after Crookshanks. He gets grumpy when he doesn’t get his food,” she said while getting up from her chair.

“It’s a miracle that cat’s still alive, Granger, he’s ancient,” Malfoy sneered from his side of the conference table, then grinned. “I can feed him though, I don’t mind.”

She shrugged and nodded.

“No touching my clothes,” Harry heard her mutter under her breath as all three of them left the room. “No mess in the kitchen. The wine in the fridge is not for you, but feel free to take the cookies. And any books you borrow…”

“... will be returned to their original place on the shelf within two weeks. Granger, I know the rules. And you know I know them and stick to them.”

Hermione elbowed him, but it was a friendly gesture rather than anything rough enough to inflict pain. Something in Harry’s head did not like that at all. He had noticed before that Hermione had become quite friendly with the blond aristocrat and it just seemed to be - wrong. Ron and her, okay that had been one thing. A strange thing, as they were in no way compatible. They had found that out pretty quickly after the war and done their best to get back into the friend-zone. He’d been glad to have the old balance back. Especially after Ginny had left and moved back into the Burrow he had felt a little left out with his best friends dating each other. But he had never been jealous of Ron. He had never felt that weird pang he now felt anytime Draco and Hermione started their bantering again.

“See you tomorrow, Draco. And thanks for the Crooks-sitting.”

“My pleasure, Granger.”

“Come on, Harry, let’s grab some coffee and wait in the library. The only place in this bloody building that feels even remotely comfortable.”

A couple minutes later they were installed on one of the old battered sofas in one of the library’s reading-nooks. Harry had to agree with his friend. The library stood in stark contrast to the rest of the ministry. Where everything else was pretty modern for wizard standards and made to serve a purpose in the most efficient way possible, the library looked like it had fallen out of time. It smelled of wood and parchment and ink and dust and the fire in the open fireplace always kept it quite warm.

Hermione sipped some coffee from her huge purple mug and closed her eyes as if she had never tasted anything as delicious. Harry loved seeing that expression on her face. He’d never grow tired of it. The way her lashes wove into each other, how the dimples appeared on her cheeks, how the corners of her mouth just turned up ever so slightly. It made her look younger and reminded him of their Hogwarts days. All of the hours they had spent in the library, all of the adventures they had had together, all the times she had had to wake him up during Professor Binns class, all the times she had had to repair his glasses after he had managed to break them yet again - One would think that if you grew up together and were so much at ease with each other, if you had been friends for the better half of your lives, there was no space for feelings that went beyond brotherly platonic affection. One would be terribly mistaken.

“So, Malfoy, cat-sitting. And not for the first time?”

Hermione blushed slightly and took another sip from her cup.

“I can’t believe you’re still harbouring your hatred for him after all this time.”

“He called you a Mudblood once.”

“He was an actual child.”

“He was a git… wait, no… he _is_ a git. He’s still self-obsessed and arrogant and…”

“About a million other things that are quite common in our society yet go unscathed most of the time.”

“I still don’t understand why he feeds your cat. I mean, couldn’t you call Ginny or have Luna pop by or…”

“I had Ginny cat-sit Crooks before. She does an amazing job. But she has to fly a broom tonight and if you had thought for even a second, you’d have remembered that, because you still have her matches marked down in your calendar as far as I know. Asking anybody else - even Luna - would be quite horrific, because Crooks generally hates people and he only makes exceptions for very few of them. He adores Draco for some weird reason. I mean, they never crossed paths when we were still at school, but the first time Draco was over at my place, they bonded instantly. I have never seen Crooks jump on anybody’s lap with quite that enthusiasm.”

Harry wanted to ask what the hell Draco had been doing at Hermione’s place. Why had the ferret even visited her? Why had he been allowed to sit? - The natural predisposition to a cat jumping onto your lap was sitting, after all. He considered whether it was something he could ask without sounding weird and possessive. He decided that, yes, it was normal to be worried about your muggle friend hanging out with a former Death Eater. Alone! In her own house!

Hermione laughed and shook her head.

  
“Harry, I am not a ten-year-old little girl that needs to be looked after. We were working on a project and it got quite late. Draco’s quite the gentleman so he saw me home afterwards - he’s just as afraid of me getting stolen by some murderous maniac as you and Ron - and it was pouring, so I asked whether he wanted to come up and Floo over to his flat from my fireplace. He’s atrociously bad at apparating and the alternative was walking through the rain and being drenched. And I can’t believe I am just telling you this because it sounds like I am trying to justify myself and I shouldn’t have to do that.”

Harry wanted to apologise but just when he opened his mouth to do so, the fireplace lit up with a strange purple glow and Justin’s head appeared in the flames.

“Hey my lovelies,” he greeted them. “I have news for you.”  


The briefing was quick and simple. Justin had found out where the traitor was living and all they had to do was get there and track him down. As no wizard in his sane mind lived in Islington, they’d have to apparate, but neither Hermione nor Harry had any issues with that.

“Does the guy have a name? ” Hermione enquired.

When Justin answered in the affirmative, Harry frowned.

“Matthew Flint? As in Marcus Flint, the creepy former Slytherin Quidditch player?”

Justin nodded.

“I used our knowledgeable former Death Eater as a source and over the purring of that huge cat of yours, Granger, I understood that the Flints had a second son who never was mentioned anywhere or seen anywhere. He’s a bit older than Marcus… and he’s a Squib. Guess with all the pureblood inbreeding that just kind of happens. I mean it’s a bit like all of the royal houses and their high number of colour blind members, isn’t it.”

“So he’s a Squib that was hidden away because his parents were ashamed of him,” Hermione summed up. “I guess he’s got quite the motive to seek revenge.”

They apparated into a guarded safe-spot the Ministry had put up right next to Angel station. The perpetrator’s house was only a short walk away from there. Matthew Flint lived in a concrete bunker that looked neither neat nor new. Chips of plaster had come off the wall and there were weeds growing in the gaps between the cobblestones that led up to the door.

Harry pressed the doorbell. Hermione held her wand behind her back. This would not be an easy arrest, she was almost sure about that. If somebody was clever enough to unveil the wizarding society using the internet he might well be able to know when the couple in front of his house weren’t just innocent members of Jehovah's witnesses who had come to tell him about the greatness of the Lord.

She expected trouble. What she didn’t expect was that they didn’t even get to face trouble. Flint’s footsteps approached the door, stopped, a loud exclamation of “shit” could be heard and then somebody sprinted through the house, away from the entrance.

“Back door!” Hermione shouted. “Quick!”

They just reached the back of the house in time to see their Squib subject jump over the fence.

“Good thing I still haven’t taken Pansy’s advice to wear pencil skirts to work,” Hermione noted grimly and leapt after him.

Harry followed with considerably less elegance. He wondered whether Hermione had started to go to the gym lately. That effortless jump had been quite impressive.

They did not have to run after Flint for long. He cut across a few backyards, then angled back towards the tube station and vanished down the stairs. Hermione let out an exasperated cry and - while still running at full speed and with her wand in her right hand - began to fumble for her Oyster card in the back pocket of her jeans.

Harry was quite happy he had only topped his card up earlier that day. It would have been quite stupid to have to tell Justin they had lost their man due to the Oyster system.

They followed Flint’s large form - he was brawny and taller than most people which made him easy to spot - and reached the platform right when a Northern Line to Morden pulled in. A lot of people got on and off and they did not manage to get into the same carriage as their suspect but had to squeeze into the one behind it.

“I can see him,” Hermione noted, looking through the tiny windows between the carriages. “Although someone must have vomited against that glass lately. Yuck.”

Harry did not like the tube much. He had never liked it. It was noisy and dirty and always full of people, some of whom did not smell nice and especially during the rush hour it was horrendously crammed. He had never had to ride the tube with Hermione by his side though and having her body pressed against his made the rush hour quite bearable.

“Don’t even think about it,” he told himself. “Focus on the task at hand. Don’t think about the fact that your best friend has curves in all the right places and that her hair smells lovely.”

In an attempt to lose them, Flint hopped off the train at London Bridge and jumped onto the next Jubilee line to Stratford. There were way too many people in the tunnels and it was a miracle that they did not lose him in the chaos. The doors almost shut when Hermione had just reached the train, but she managed to get in and pull Harry in as well. He felt as if a million electric shocks were running up his arm from where their palms had touched. Damned, he really had a problem.

Although they were in the same carriage as Flint this time, there was no chance to take him down. Too many Muggles around to use magic and too many people around to get to him and tackle him - which was an infinitely bad idea in the first place in Harry’s opinion. The guy looked as if he spent hours lifting weights.

“Where the heck is he going?” Hermione hissed under her breath.

“Absolutely no clue,” responded Harry. “Guess we’ll find out soon enough.”

Flint finally got off at Canning Town and sprinted for the exit. Hermione and Harry had to squeeze past a few people on their way out and only caught a glimpse of the Squib at the top of the stairs. Hermione bolted up the steps at full throttle with Harry in tow.

“Where did he go?” Harry panted out as he leant down putting his hands on his knees to take a breath when they had reached the top of the stairs. He was getting too old for this.

“You’re getting old, man. He ran into that crowd,” Hermione replied, dragging Harry along to keep the chase up.

“Wait! Is that-?”

Hermione stopped and huffed a little. “Yes, it is what you think it is.”

“How are we going to catch him if he hides in a gathering of people where everyone is dressed as somebody else!” Harry ranted, finally walking up to Hermione.

“I cast a tracer on him as he was running from us right before he jumped over that fence,” Hermione replied smugly.

“You cast a nonverbal, wandless spell on a running man?” Harry asked, surprised. “I could kiss you right now.”

“So, why don't you?” Hermione mumbled going red in the face.

“You said something?”

“Wha- No! Not me! Must be the wind.”

Harry knew she said something but he didn’t push. This time.

They managed to follow their man into an exhibition centre which was teeming with more people in costumes.

They didn’t pay much heed to the crowd and followed their suspect inside the exhibition centre. It was soon becoming a difficult task because they were being noticed by the people as they were not in costumes. Hermione and Harry shared a look, by now they had slipped into the backstage area of the exhibition and it was full of people who were yet to put on their costumes and some were getting their makeup done. But there was no sign of Flint. He must have slipped through their hands it seemed.

Hermione pulled out her wand to activate the tracer and turned around to say something when she slammed into Harry, taking him down. They were hit by twin spells by someone very near them. And by the looks of their inability to get up on their feet and take charge of the situation, it seemed the man had cast a Confundus Charm on them.

Hermione, being the pro at Occlumency, tried to shake off the effects of the spell as soon as possible. But Harry struggled against it and was merely riding out the effects by giggling at the brooms and snitches that only he could see.

Somehow, Hermione managed to get onto her feet and tried to pick up Harry from the floor when-

“So you are the guys?” a man with a clipboard asked them.

“Yeah, I guess,” Harry replied since Hermione was a tad busy discretely casting the counter curse. Harry blinked owlishly as the effects set in but he could still make out some Firebolt riding ferrets dance around his head.

“Great! They are doing a good casting these days. Both of you are really suited to the roles,” the man rambled and then got busy speaking into his crackling walkie-talkie.

“Feels like a hangover I got from drinking a barrel of Firewhiskey,” Hermione groaned, holding onto Harry, who was, in turn, holding on to her.

“Just a few moments, love,” Harry replied, rubbing Hermione’s back slowly. “Those Bludgers to the head at least taught me how to recover my senses quickly.”

“Come on. The costumes are ready. Miranda will doll you up and you, mate- you are coming with me,” the man took hold of Harry’s hand and dragged him away. Hermione stumbled but a woman caught her and dragged her away in the opposite direction.

“Where are you taking me? We’ve got work to do!” Hermione complained while she tried to pull away from the woman.

“Honey, you will be doing your work. Just after you don the costume and a little makeup. You’ll be wearing a mask after all so we wouldn’t need much. But hon, I hope you practised your moves with the whip. I’m new here but I heard that in the last rehearsal, you were awful. And Dave couldn’t work out the plunging jump with the harness despite—” the woman went on talking, taking a stumbling Hermione along with her.

“Mione! Where is she taking Hermione?” Harry shouted at the man who had by now guided Harry into a group of people who turned to face Harry like vultures revolving around their food.

The man ignored Harry’s question completely and told him, “I know you are a _little_ bottle happy person. But was it really necessary to drink in the morning before you have to appear on stage?” he rolled his eyes and turned around and clapped and shouted into a megaphone, “Listen up, everyone! Batman and Catwoman are here. So, in T-minus twenty minutes we have to make them crowd ready. Tell Zac to get the Penguin ready and make sure the stage is audience ready! Let’s give it our best everyone!”

The people present there shouted in affirmative and the vultures that had surrounded Harry suddenly attacked him, all at the same time. Somebody removed his pants, somebody removed his jacket, his shirt. One made to throw away his wand thinking it was a fancy twig but somehow in the melee of grabbing hands, Harry held on to it. His specs were also at threat but they managed to stay on his face too. By now, the people backed away- one by one- and there was only one person left standing behind him, clasping a cape onto his shoulders.

“There,” the man slapped Harry’s back. “The best Batman that could ever be. I didn’t know you had those abs under there though, mate!” and grabbed his hands jerking Harry forward.

He made Harry get into a narrow tunnel with cloth walls and shoved a mask into his hands.

“Wear this and go to your spot, okay?” he said and shut the door.

Harry turned his head to inspect where he was. It wasn’t a tunnel, more like a makeshift corridor, that ended in a right turn, allowing for the free movement of the backstage crew. He looked down at his costume to see it had fake abs built in. He shook his head in defeat. All those exercises to tone his body and now he was wearing fake abs. He ran his hands over the rough texture of the firm yet flimsy walls when a heard a squeaky call of ‘Harry?’ from around the corner.

“Hermione?” Harry called back.

“Oh Merlin! I was so scared for a moment,” Hermione gushed, relieved that Harry was there and hugged Harry. He hugged her back tightly, rubbing her back as he did so. But his hand moved over latex covering which was acting like a second skin on her. He pulled back and ran his hands on Hermione’s arms but they were covered in latex too.

“Are you okay, Hermione?”

“I have been better. But Harry…” Hermione trailed off.

“What?”

“I am wearing a costume.”

“As am I. I didn’t have a look at it but it is an all-black costume. And—and I have a half coverage mask that has weird pointed ears and a sharp nose.” Harry’s mind was whirling now. He was getting some hazy details from the comics of Dudley he had once read. This was the attire of some sort of vigilante. But he couldn’t remember the name for the life in him.

“Harry, I’m wearing the latex costume of Catwoman!” Hermione’s voice sounded like she was very close to crying in frustration. She ranted, “Latex costume! I’m moving my hands and-” a squeak sounded. “Hear that! It squeaks! This thing has me covered from head to toe. Including the face. By the looks of it, there’s barely anything left to the imagination. They stripped me off of all my undergarments! One even took away my wand but at the last moment I summoned it back and now I have transfigured it into this whip they provided me with.”

“I am man called bat,” Harry blurted out in confusion and shock at Hermione’s rant about wearing no undergarments.

 _‘Hermione is not wearing her undies. So it means she’s basically naked under that costume. A squeaky, skin tight costume at that. Would she mind if I cast Lumos here to get a better look at her? I’m pretty sure that butt would be looking the best in it.’_ He subtly tilted his head to get a better look. From the little he could see, reality did not just live up to but actually surpassed his imagination. Harry could barely think anymore. His blood flow was directed somewhere other than his brain now.

“And I am a woman called cat!” Hermione cried, quite oblivious of Harry’s rapidly escalating R-rated thoughts.

“Well… you are a cat woman. Were. Once, you know? Back in the second year?” Harry managed to retort back, for once managing to get his thoughts under control.

Hermione slapped Harry’s arm rather sharply.

“Ouch. That hurt! Woman, don’t turn to abuse!”

“I have a whip on my person. And I am not afraid to use it.”

Harry’s mind took a head-dive into his fantasy drawer of D/s scenarios starring Hermione as the strict yet sexy librarian that punished him, the innocent student, in the most sinful ways. The costume suddenly felt quite stuffy and warm. And Hermione moving around him in that thing didn’t help matters at all. He made no attempt to control his thoughts. Better to live out the daydream before it hijacked his mind in front of the audience he was supposed to perform in front of.

In the measly light of the corridor, Harry got just enough of a glimpse of latex covered Hermione with a coiled whip at her hips. The costume was stretched tight over her body, revealing her perfect shape. Harry perversely kept on staring at the curves that Hermione usually hid rather well inside her work robes. He gulped, feeling his mouth go dry due to the direction his thoughts were going into.

She was always bossy. Merlin, he wouldn’t mind her being bossy in the bed either. With a costume like that and the attitude of a vixen, he was ready to be whipped by her. Thank Merlin that blond menace Draco “The Tosser” Malfoy wasn’t here to leer at his girl.

Hermione stumbled over something, dropping her earpiece as she contacted their backup force waiting outside and bent down to Damn him, he was right! He could just bite into that juicy, plump but—

“Harry? Harry? Are you even listening to me? Harry!” Hermione gave a light punch on Harry’s chest to break his train of thoughts that was completely stationed at the gutter city of dirty thoughts.

"How do we keep getting into these situations?" Harry mused.

"Eleven years of friendship and I still don't know," Hermione replied with a smile creeping onto her face.

“Hey, what is Batman still doing here? Go to the floating terrace and take your position. We are starting in T-minus five minutes,” a man shouted at them, frustrated. “And Catwoman, you are in the wrong corridor. Go to the opposite one! Honestly! It seems like you have forgotten all the rehearsals we did late into the night yesterday!”

Harry waved at him and turned to Hermione who looked very nervous now.

“I think from the floating terrace, I can try to see where that rascal is. You use that tracer and let me know.”

Hermione nodded at him and hesitated a little looking intently at Harry’s lips. Harry noticed her staring at his lips and his tongue darted out to wet his ‘apparently’ dry lips. He even gulped as a good measure.

A loud shout from the annoying man jolted them and they realised that they were mere inches apart. It felt like they had drifted towards each other.

“Get a move on! Will you?”

Hermione huffed and rolled her eyes. “Switch on the earpiece I gave you. You can speak to me real time then, okay?”

Harry nodded as he internally mourned the ruined moment between them.

By now, he had climbed up the stairs only to find he had to ‘trapeze’ his way onto the stage, hanging from a rope that Harry really didn’t trust. Despite being reassured by the crew member that the rope was a parachute quality rope, he subtly cast a Cushioning spell on himself. Hermione had transfigured his wand to look like Batman’s gun so that he could use it without being obvious.

He took off his glasses and put on his mask, took a deep breath and saw nothing but fuzzy shapes. Damn! He couldn’t go without his spectacles. So he put on his spectacles on top of the mask and charmed them to stick to the mask. He again took a deep breath and was about to jump when his earpiece crackled-

“Harry, that costumed man on the stage is our man!”

“Got it, Mione,” and then he jumped.

* * *

The show had started when the Penguin appeared on the stage via a trap door. The Penguin just kept standing there, not saying a word, trying to run backstage but he was just pushed back by someone into the limelight. Then someone shouted and they saw Batman jump from the top and rapidly approach the utterly confused Penguin. Batman didn’t slow down and slammed into the Penguin with a loud Smack! Somehow, Batman managed to stay on his feet as he stood over the fallen Penguin. Catwoman entered the stage and the whole crowd went crazy shouting and whistling as she sauntered her way up onto the stage. At a closer look, it seemed that Catwoman was wobbling a little as she walked on her towering heels.

“Fun’s over now, boys. Hand him over to me,” Catwoman said in the sultry voice moving in her hypnotising manner.

Batman looked really captivated by her as did the Penguin. But he managed to take advantage of that distraction and kicked his legs out from under him and knocking Batman down. Catwoman shouted in frustration and took out her whip snapping it right at his foot, managing to wrap it around his ankle and he toppled over, slamming onto the floor again and fell off the stage. The Penguin didn’t care if he had to crawl his way to freedom. He just kept attempting to run, limping as he did so.

Catwoman was right behind him and struck him down once more and pulled out a pair of handcuffs. The Penguin writhed and managed shut. Catwoman tried to use her cat claws but his skin seemed impervious to them. He managed to roll over and finally found his feet again, but Catwoman jumped on him from behind as he was limping away and stuck to his back like a burr, riding him piggyback style. The Penguin’s hands flailed through the air as he tried to pull Catwoman away from his person. Somehow he got hold of her head and threw her off. Catwoman landed with a thud, hitting her head on the concrete floor. It seemed she wasn’t knocked out right away as she let out a groan in pain.

The crowd gasped. The act looked a little too real. Suddenly, a black blur appeared and landed right on top of the Penguin as if he levitated his way there and the crowd then saw Batman not use his weapons but his bare fist to beat some manners into the Penguin.

The crowd that was standing around them in circle cheered and chanted but somehow the Penguin got his hands on his umbrella and shouted something in Latin and shot something out of the fully functional Penguin special umbrella. Batman immediately took out his gun and shot back at it neutralising the shot midway.

It was a breath holding moment as the two duelled away filling the area in flashing lights that were more often than not were accompanied by some noise. An awry shot caught the Penguin’s leg and he crumpled. Batman stopped shooting now and turned to look at his fallen ally for a moment.

Catwoman was helped up by a ‘Captain America’ and she seemed to be holding on to ‘Darth Vader’ for support. She smiled in reassurance and opened her mouth to say something to Batman when her expression changed and she shouted: “Harry! Look out!”

Batman quickly dodgeed the thrown umbrella, took out his gun and shot at Penguin point blank. Ropes shot out of his gun and wrapped themselves around the villain. When he turned into a mummy wrapped in ropes, he finally stopped shooting at Penguin. He smirked and put his gun into the utility belt.

“Woah! How did you do that?” asked a young man, staring admiringly at Harry who was now holding Flint as “the Penguin” by his neck.

“Because I’m Batman!”

By now, a group of policemen, who were actually Aurors dressed as Gotham police force to maintain the charade, had arrived there and were making their way through the crowd towards the bound villain. Batman flung the bound Penguin at them and took Catwoman away from the helpful superheroes, tightly wrapping his arm around her waist. He dipped her a little and kissed her right on her mouth.

The crowd went berserk and loud cries of “I ship them! I totally ship them!” and “He looks so adorable in those glasses! Batman wearing glasses!” and “I’m gonna try glasses on my mask too. It’s so practical!” could be heard from around them. As they pulled apart, which was a little too quick for either party, Batman took out his gun and shot it at the roof. He tugged at the rope and it sharply pulled the duo out of the crowd towards the dark ceiling as Catwoman screamed in utter terror and kept shouting “Harry! Stop it this instance! HARRY!”

“None of that performance was in the script you realise,” remarked a man in the crew’s uniform standing on the sidelines.

“Yeah, I noticed,” replied another crew member.

“But the crowd loved it,” said yet another as they watched the crowd clap and scream Batman’s name.

“Batman was wearing glasses. And Catwoman wobbled her way onto the stage.”

“Eh, it was a good show. Who cares about details?”

“Come on. Let’s guide the crowd towards the walking tour of the Bat cave. They’ll love what we have done.”

“Yeah! Come on, everybody! Our work’s not over yet!”

* * *

Harry still held Hermione close with one hand as they stood on the roof and watched the people below them scamper to the next attraction.

“I guess that counts as ‘mission accomplished’,” he said smugly.

“Probably,” Hermione said, rubbing her head. “Can we go home now? I need to get rid of this costume and I need a shower. And…”

She stopped mid-sentence and closed her eyes for a second.

“I’m just going to do something very quickly. Remember, I hit my head. I might have a concussion and I might not be fully in control of my actions. Also, I was just rescued by the Dark Knight and I think a thank you is in order.”

And with a smile, she pulled him even closer and kissed him again. This time, the kiss lasted longer and when they finally pulled apart it was only because they had run out of air and had to breathe.

“Damned, Mione,” Harry grinned. “That was… unexpected.”

“That was long overdue,” Hermione responded in her usual matter-of-fact tone. “Let’s go home now.”

**Later that evening…**

“That bump on your head is not hurting anymore, is it?” Harry asked as he cuddled Hermione’s naked form under the covers in his bed.

“Nothing that St Mungo’s couldn’t fix,” Hermione replied, placing a kiss on Harry’s nose as she snuggled comfortably against Harry’s firm body.

“Man, you really didn’t need the fake abs on that costume,” she noticed.

“So what do you say? Care to play the damsel in distress who rewards her rescuer for me again or…”

“I distinctly remember somebody getting deliciously uncomfortable as he watched the Catwoman saunter up to him,” Hermione teased.

“It was such a ‘blink it and you miss it’ moment. I need a better look to get really uncomfortable.”

“That costume is terribly hard to get into.”

“You’re a witch. Use magic.”

Hermione hummed. “One condition. You wear that Batman costume now. I would love to be the sexy temptress who seduces the knight of justice by my feminine wiles.”

“For you? Anything, my love.”

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> Review if you please


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